


A Change In Fate

by FleetSparrow



Category: Sherlock Holmes Series - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Ending Fix, Fix-It, Gen, I just want Athelney to live OK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23925928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: In which Moriarty reveals himself, but Athelney Jones still survives.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15
Collections: Victorian Holmes Prompt Box





	A Change In Fate

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [mightymads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightymads/pseuds/mightymads) in the [Victorian221bPromptBox](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Victorian221bPromptBox) collection. 



> I'm not saying this is inspiring me to write a series, but I'm also not not saying it.

_From the pages left by Professor James Moriarty:_

"I'm sorry," I said, and shot him.

Another shot rang out.

The pain and force of a bullet nicking my wrist caused my point-blank shot to go wild, striking the seat behind Athelney Jones. He started and fell back off of the carriage in what had to be a very painful attempt to flee. But he was of no matter to me now.

I turned at once to the source of the other shot. I recognized the gun before I recognized the shooter himself. A service pistol of the British Army.

Dr Watson.

I leapt from the carriage and darted to the Black Maria, shooting the baffled policeman still guarding it. I chanced a glance back in Watson's direction, but it seemed that he, too, had moved on to another focus, tending to the dying.

So much the better for me.

Perry climbed up beside me just in time to avoid being left behind as I drove the horses onward. We slowed only once to catch Colonel Moran, and then we were off once again, as fast as the horses could run.

I was sure of only two things: Sherlock Holmes had found me, and that I was, without a doubt, unable to continue my operations in England.

* * *

_From Watson's diary, found well after Sherlock Holmes' return:_

I followed Holmes' note to wait outside the American legation and, of course, his direction to bring my service revolver with me. As the man whom Sherlock had identified as the real Moriarty climbed onto the carriage seat, I moved from my place of concealment. I saw Inspector Jones pull out his gun and Moriarty followed. I took aim, and fired.

I was under strict instruction to protect the inspector as much as I was that Moriarty should not be killed. When Inspector Jones fell, so did my heart. Our plan was for naught! I rushed out, nearly shot for my impatience. The inspector was lying on the ground in clear signs of distress, but alive. I pressed my hand to his shoulder to tell him to stay low, then I left him to tend to his fallen comrades.

It was very late that evening when we finally found our way back to the inspector's home. I stood back as he embraced his wife and afterward excused himself to see his daughter upstairs. Mrs Jones--a strong-willed and tender creature, if ever there was such a lady--took my hands and blessed me. Athelney--as he insisted I call him, stating that there was no greater intimacy than saving a man's life--joined us in their sitting room some minutes later.

"How did you know?" was all he asked, knowing that this question would provide all the answer he needed.

"It started with a message from the grave," I said.

I told him of the letter I found in my things on the train home that told of Holmes' plan, that he would follow Moriarty through the days after their battle at the falls. I told him, too, of the missives I received to watch closely for any signs of Moriarty's former associates. What even Holmes could not predict, however, was that Moriarty would attach himself to the inspector.

"This morning," Mrs Jones began, "after you left, I received the strangest note from an old woman. It said that you were in danger, but that an old friend would protect you." She passed this note to her husband. "I can only believe it came from Sherlock Holmes himself." There was a tension in her voice that I couldn't place; perhaps it was left over from the strain of nearly losing her husband.

Athelney shook his head as he read over the note. His eyes were sad. “I should never have trusted him.”

“Do not blame yourself,” I said, hastily. “We have all been the more deceived.”

He looked to me, the faintest color on his pallid face, and smiled weakly at my reassurance. “What has become of Moriarty now? Why did no one go after him?”

“It was my instruction to let him go,” I said. “Sherlock informs me Moriarty is leaving for America. His dealings in this country are finished.”

“And that’s quite a relief,” Mrs Jones said.

“What of Mr Holmes?” Athelney asked.

I pulled out the new farewell letter sent me by Holmes and handed it to him; it held a message for him, as well. Athelney read it silently. At last, he passed the letter back to me. His grey eyes shone brightly.

“Whatever shall we do without him?”

“Go on living,” I said. “And trust that, one day, he will return.”


End file.
